


Sliver Spoon

by hellofromorlando



Category: A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder - Lutvak/Freedman
Genre: F/M, M/M, and so is phoebe, henry is kind of spoiled but he is a sweetheart, phoebe is the supportive sister, so yeah henrys kinda in love with monty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 15:31:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18252686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellofromorlando/pseuds/hellofromorlando
Summary: Henry D'Ysquith lived a life of luxury. His great estate with his beloved farm of bees, surrounded by beautiful gardens, and constantly protected by his younger but more mature sister, Phoebe.There was one of the many internal struggles he faced, though: despite his difficulty with his literacy, he also had given a name to a great problem that had entered his life not too long ago: Montague D'Ysquith Navarro.The problem begins when Monty almost kills Henry by sending a swarm of bees after him; it returns when years later, Montague invites himself back to the estate.





	Sliver Spoon

_A clear and sunny morning_  
Two eyes meet mine, sparkling blue  
An ocean meets the sand  
My heart yearns for something it cannot withhold  
The ocean leaves me  
**Don't.**

__

"Henry!" A high-pitched call and a scuttering of familiar feet clucking down the hallway greet me as I open the shutters to my bedroom. I turn around from the blinding light to see my sister, dressed in a silk blue blouse and long azure petticoat that treaded behind her on the ground.

"Well, Phoebe, aren't you looking dashing today," I complimented, giving a polite bow to my jolly sister. She seemed much giddier than usual.

"Oh yes, Henry! And quite the appropriate occasion for it, too. Guess who's come to visit us this morning?" She leaned in towards my face, and her smile only grew more and more earnest by the second.

Without hesitation, I knew who Phoebe was referring to. No one else made her cheeks flush so crimson and eyes glow so sanguinely. 

"Monty?" I asked, as I failed to fight off the smirk that had crept upon my face. Phoebe nodded and giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. I couldn't help but giggle along with her. "How did you know about his visit? He hasn't shown his face at our place in ages."

Phoebe reached into the pocket of her vest and pulled out a small envelope that had been folded beyond repair.

"He sent a letter, adressed to both of us." At that, she gave me a wink, and I took the letter from her hand while rolling my eyes. "Read it!"

I opened up the letter and my eyes drawled across the page feverishly.

_Dear Mr. Henry D'Ysquith and Dearest Ms. Phoebe D'Ysquith,_

_It is my pleasure to inform you that I will finally take up your offer to spend some time at your estate. I apologize for this being such a late request, but I needed some time away after the mishap that happened last time I visited. Are you quite alright now, Henry? Again, I am so very sorry for knocking over that beehive. I will be sure to make it up to you somehow. Anyways, I would like to spend some more time with you both at your estate. You both are wonderful company and I hope you will humbly accept my presence._

_Best,  
Mr. Montague D'Ysquith Navarro _

"That was very kind of him," I thought out loud, Phoebe nodding along as well. "Did you reach out to him?"

"Of course I did! Though in a way, he sort of invited himself," Phoebe giggled.

"It seems so. He did choose the right people to insist his own invitation to visit."

We both knew Monty was a buffoon, but he was our buffoon. His irresistable and cynical personality was something to give a desire to unravel his mysteries layered beneath himself in the most poetic of ways. We both loved Monty with a burning passion, but my feelings were a little more subdued. 

He should be here at the break of dawn in exactly a week's time. Until then, I will still my heart enough to be calm in Monty's presence; as well as take some quality time with my bees before my attention becomes swerved towards our uninvited but in a sense always welcome guest.

-

As I sat in the garden, reading my book, my dearest sister Phoebe sits down beside me. Her dark blue eyes ask me what I am doing here reading a book, something I don't often pick up on with my low sense of literacy. That is why when I write, I enjoy writing in poetry, as it does not require the grammar skills that a highly knowlegable writer and reader such as my sister would have.

Instead, she asks another more shallow question in order to calm me as she knows I only read books when I am stressed or deep in contemplation: "What are you reading?"

"A Modest Proposal by Jonathan Swift." Phoebe's face lit up at the mention of this story. "I'm sure you've read it. It's quite amusing, in a twisted sort of way." 

"I didn't know you liked to read about the Irish, Henry. I was sure you were a loyalist through and through," Phoebe teased, elbowing me gently in the ribs amusingly. Though I knew she didn't mean to hurt me, even the gentlest of nudges was a little too aggressive for her.

"Sorry," she mumbled under her breath, gently rubbing my side as she saw my face scrunch up.

A bee swung itself across my nose. A cute one, though I pray I don't smell like flowers today. I was not ready for another bee sting attack after what happened upon Monty's first visit to the estate.

Phoebe smiled at me again, this time in a more loving way than I had ever seen her look at me before. "Henry, you're the best brother I could ask for. Don't forget that."

"I didn't need the reassurance, but thank you," I sighed. I already knew how much Phoebe loved me. The reason she put up with me every day and stayed at this estate despite her many oppurtunitues was knowledge enough of her care for me, her older brother.

Without a word, she walked deeper into the garden, leaving me alone on the bench to my thoughts alone. I decided to stare at the flowers and the setting sun as dusk neared its approach. 

Tomorrow is dawning. Monty would be arriving soon enough.

-

I was woken up by a startling squeal by none other than my sister. 

"Phoebe, how many times do I have to tell you to stop waking me up like that?! I have my schedule set, and I need my full rest!" I yelled, obviously reflecting the fact that I do not fare well with others early in the morning or when I don't get an adequate amount of sleep.

My hair was tousled, my clothes were loose and baggy as they were the wrong size and I never cared to get them fixed, and my room was in utter disarray. The perfect condition to be in as none other than Montague D'ysquith Navarro walks through the door.

And of course he stifles an adorable little giggle upon seeing my terrible composure. I actually meant "chuckle". Pull yourself together, Henry; you can't blow your cover.

"My goodness, Mr. Navarro. Your visit was much sooner than I thought it would be," I chuckled nervously. My discomfort was obvious, and I was indirectly giving Phoebe the evil eye for inviting him in here when I never, ever present myself in such a disastrous way as I am now.

And albeit my worries, Monty seemed unphased by my condition.

"I was so thrilled to see you two that I could hardly wait another minute to visit," Monty answered as he bowed. "Apologies for the intrusion, Lord Henry."

I smiled and sighed of relief. "Oh! No worries, Mr. Navarro! And always know that you are welcome here." 

Monty nodded, ensuing an awkward silence to echo throughout the room. Should I ask him how he is? Where he's traveled to in these past couple of years? What he thinks about the renovations to the estate or if he's noticed them?

Phoebe detects that my mind at the moment was discombobulated, so she decides to lead Monty out of the room to let me get ready.

I get up as I normally would, doing my morning stretches and going into the shower to loosen my muscles.

After I had washed up, I slipped on an everyday beige suit and combed my hair with some gel to keep down the cowlicked hairs flying about. As I deduced that I was finally appropriately prepared to present myself to the world, I went to the door and upon leaving my room, locked my journal inside my desk drawer. Who knows where Monty could be snooping when we're not looking? 

_Clearing the path is no longer true_  
A blotch of ink stains the sand  
A flower blooms from the dirt  
It is what plagues my chest  
You are my **demise**


End file.
